


What If Things Were Different

by ceealaina



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, Gen, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceealaina/pseuds/ceealaina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Bucky wasn't captured by Hydra, and instead was sitting in the audience with the rest of the 107th while Captain America took the stage? </p><p>In my head Steve and Bucky are so in love it's ridiculous, but it can be read as just two best friends if that's how you prefer it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What If Things Were Different

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IfIWereMagneto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfIWereMagneto/gifts).



> So every time I watch Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I'm always plagued by the idea of what if Bucky hadn't been captured. What would he be thinking, sitting there watching Captain America? Would he feel bad for him? Be reminded of Steve? Would he be booing him too? 
> 
> So I finally just wrote it XD

Bucky hadn’t had any particular interest in going to see Captain America and his USO girls perform with what was left of his unit. The latest battle had been a hard one, and he still felt numb. So many men gone, dead or captured, and how easy would it have been for him to be one of them? He couldn’t shake the melancholy that had settled over him, scared and homesick, with his thoughts always drifting to Steve. Even in the middle of a war he was still worrying about his best friend, on the other side of an ocean and always getting into trouble. It pained him to not be able to keep an eye on him, to keep him out of trouble. 

Bucky tried to console himself with the fact that at least Steve was still in New York, where he would be relatively safe. Even without the constant threat of gunfire, there was no way Steve would have made it through this. Not in the cold, and with the damp that his lungs would never have survived. But knowing Steve was safe in New York didn’t make Bucky feel better. All he wanted was to be back in Brooklyn with him, shivering in the little apartment they shared.

Given his current circumstances, however, that was absolutely not an option. So although his heart clenched at the thought of Steve, he lined up with all the other troops for their afternoon’s entertainment. Lost in his own thoughts, Bucky barely noticed the USO girls take the stage. Once he might have joined in with cheers and catcalls of the men around him, but today his mind was a million miles away, and he couldn’t have cared less. 

And then Captain America took the stage. 

Bucky had seen the comics, and the posters, but he felt a cold shiver run down his back as he was met with the real thing. He was too far back to make out the details of his face, but something about Captain America's unassuming smile niggled at the back of his mind. When the man finally spoke, Bucky nearly choked on the realization of why. He sounded like Steve, so full of hope and optimism, and Bucky was nearly sick with the sudden, desperate desire to be home. 

His head swimming with how much this guy reminded him of Steve, it took Bucky a moment to notice the grumbles of the men around him. He understood what they were saying. After all, who the hell was this guy to ask them to join him, when he had probably never fought a day in his life. But he was just so earnest, and like a piece of home, and when the men around him started jeering and booing him off the stage, and he saw the guy’s face fall, Bucky felt his protective instinct take over. 

“Hey, knock it off,” he muttered, shoving at one or two of them. All he really got in return was a few strange looks, but he didn’t notice, watching as this guy - and he even walked like Steve - disappeared off stage. 

When the USO girls came back, singing the same song again, Bucky got up and left. He just wasn’t interested anymore, not with his mind going in a thousand different directions. He headed back toward his tent, wondering if he could catch a nap before everything wrapped up, when he spotted a figure in the distance. Captain America’s shape was unmistakable, even hunched over under a tent, and Bucky stopped. He half wanted to keep going, but something about the man's posture had him hesitating. Bucky had never in his life cared about reassuring anyone but Steve, but somehow he couldn't resist the urge to go over and give this guy a thank you, or a smile, or anything to let him know that his attempted was at least appreciated by one man here. 

His boots crunched over the wet stones beneath his feet, and although he wasn't exactly being quiet, Captain America didn't look up. As he drew closer, Bucky saw that he was bent over a notebook, doodling a design, and his heart ached, once more painfully reminded of Steve. He stopped just a couple feet away, suddenly regretting his trek over, before steeling himself to continue on.

Steve had heard the footsteps, of course he had, but he hadn’t really paid them any attention, figuring no one would be coming to see him. But when they stopped suddenly, he frowned. When they finally restarted he could hear the hesitation in each step, and stilling his hand, he looked up for the source. The sounds had been coming from his left and he turned his head, his eyes widening at the figure beside him. He blinked once, mouth falling open. 

“Bucky?” His voice was raw with emotion and his sketchbook fell forgotten to the ground as he jumped to his feet. He took two steps toward his best friend before pausing. A part of him had never expected to see Bucky again, and now to have him so close, right in front of him… Steve hardly dared to believe his eyes. 

Bucky froze, and blinked, trying to work out how Captain America knew his name. He was still in his costume, right down to the red boots, and Bucky’s looked up the length of him before their eyes locked. This close to the man he could really look at him, and Bucky would have recognized those eyes anywhere. 

“Steve?” he choked out in reply. He couldn’t say anything else. His head was having trouble processing this new information, the fact that tiny Steve that he’d left behind in Brooklyn was somehow towering over him and packed with muscle. But it didn’t matter, not really, because the delighted smile that was crossing Steve’s features had familiar warmth pooling in Bucky’s stomach. 

Steve laughed then, the same laugh that Bucky had always known, and thick arms were grabbing him, hauling him in for a rough hug. Bucky clung tightly to Steve in return, fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His face pressed into Steve’s neck, masking the tears that were pooling in his eyes. They were both laughing, desperate, relieved, choked up sounds, and Bucky knew that Steve had been thinking the same thing as him, that they might never see each other again. The thought made his grip tighter, fingers pressing in hard enough that the old Steve would have been black and blue for a month. Bucky grinned as he traced unfamiliar muscles, and even though the body was new, somehow it still felt like Steve. 

Still laughing, Bucky shifted, his lips near to Steve’s ear. “Thought I told you not to do anything stupid till I got back,” he mumbled into his skin. Steve laughed in return, loud and bright and just like he had always laughed and Bucky… Bucky no longer cared about the war, or dying, or anything else, because as long as Steve was here, everything would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after, and Steve still went to rescue the rest of the 107th, only Bucky came with him this time and the Howling Commandos still kicked ass and everything was awesome.
> 
> The end.


End file.
